Janet's Tongue Ch. 01

Rummaging around in an older, external HD folder aptly named 'unsubmitted stories', I found stories I had written about ten years ago. I figured I might as well submit them, too.
I haven't been able to find an editor who'll reply although they say they're interested in editing. So, I'm uploading the story - self-edited. Hope it isn't too disastrous.
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Two women, one with short black hair and the other with short tawny hair, looked deep in a cloud of thought while they waited for their Starbucks' coffee orders.
"Yes, things are chaotic right now, but it's just bad timing. We'll work it out or it'll work itself out." The brown-haired one said.
"Sure we will, or it will, but the real question is when? What are we going to do right now?" the other asked.
"We're going to do what we can do. We'll deal with it. This is just a bump in the road. That's all. Don't make this into anything more than it really is."
"It's not just a bump. It's a bump in a dirt road - a sinkhole in a teeming downpour at a blind intersection."
"Don't go melodramatic on me. Keep your head on straight and we'll work this out." The black-haired woman sighed trying to push out the stress that weighed down on her. "Of all the times to lose our domme, it just had to be at the worst possible moment."
"When it rains, it pours. But remember, tomorrow is another day."
"Gee, thanks Scarlett O'Hara. Was that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Cat? Grande vanilla latte?" the barista said.
"Thank you." the tawny-haired woman said with a toothy smile.
"Magritte? Grande cappuccino?"
"It's Margritte. Mar-grit. Magritte was a famous French artist."
"And this is a mermaid." The barista said, pointing to the Starbucks' logo on the cup.
Margritte and the barista shared a smile, and she raised her cup with a little nod to him before resuming her previous conversation.
Unbeknownst {I dislike that word, but can't think of a good substitute} to them, a petite, young woman sitting in the corner of the cafe was listening to their ongoing conversation. She sat as quiet as a mouse by the glow of her laptop screen illuminating her young face. She had long brown hair tied back behind her neck. It was apparent that she wasn't wearing make-up or at least a minuscule amount - just a hint of color on her cheeks - and, possibly, lip gloss - or lip balm.
She wore a simple white one-piece dress tied at the waist and buttoned down the front from breast to mid-thigh. What was more glaring was the condition of her dress. It wasn't threadbare or dirty, but it was well worn and a bit unkempt.
The two women gathered their purses, which, the young lady noticed, were a Louis Vuitton and a Burberry. As the two were stepping out, the young lady closed her laptop and shoved it into her bag quickly to chase after them. While she passed by the front counter, one of the baristas spoke to her.
"If you're going to continue to come in here, I'll have to ask you to buy something from now on. Understand?"
The young lady slowed down to listen and with a saddened expression nodded back in acknowledgment before continuing after the two women. Upon stepping out of the shop and into the plaza, she looked around to see where they had gone. It was early morning and the rush to work had already begun. She looked around but failed to see them.
"Oh no! Where did they go?" she muttered.
She looked toward the main street and spotted them. The short tawny hair stood escort kocaeli out even at a distance. She made her way toward them quickly crossing the street and following them into the business high-rise lobby. She held the hem of her dress tightly just in case any sudden gusts might cause - an incident. As she made her way to the elevators, a building staff member stopped her.
"Excuse me, miss. Who are you here to see?"
"Oh. Umm...I'm with them." she said in a childlike voice pointing to the two women waiting at the elevator entrance.
The staffer looked over at Margritte and Cat who were still talking to each other and then looked back at the young lady. "You're with them?"
"Uh-huh."
He looked at her inquisitively for a moment and then noticed the bag she had around her shoulder. "May I inspect your bag?"
"Sure," she said and opened it for him to inspect the contents.
The only items inside were her laptop, a charger, keys, and an ugly turquoise wallet - neither make-up nor the usual female paraphernalia.
"Okay. Let me get you a visitor pass." He said and walked back to the reception counter. The young lady stayed where she was and watched the two women enter the elevator together. Then, she walked over to check the elevator display to see on which floor it stopped.
"Miss?" the staffer said to her and waved her over.
She watched the display, but it made several stops. She couldn't tell which floor the women went to.
"Miss?" he said again and the girl finally walked up to the reception desk. "Here you go," he said and handed her a guest pass sticker.
"Thank you. Um...could you tell me which floor the office is on? I forgot."
"It's the 29th. Suite 2909."
"Thanks," she said with a smile and an unconfident wave of her hand.
She made her way to the 29th floor brushing her dress to straighten out the wrinkles, but to no avail. As the elevator arrived at the appropriate floor, she stepped out into the hall and proceeded to suite 2909. Upon reaching the door, she saw the business plaque that read:
D she used it as her model.
"It's a woman who inflicts pain on others for sexual gratification," Janet said, not too sure of herself.
Cat perceived that Janet had formed that answer right out of thin air, but was impressed that she was able to give a decent response off the top of her head. Still. Even if she had been experienced - with her petite frame and her childlike voice, Cat couldn't imagine anyone accepting her as their domme.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think you have the experience we are looking for."
"You're right. I don't." Janet chimed in, "But I am a quick learner. All I need is an opportunity. Please. I won't disappoint you."
As direct as Cat was, she could see that Janet was going to be stubbornly persistent. She shook her head at the thought, then waved a dismissive hand in the air and picked up the phone, "Roxanne, please come in for a moment."
The receptionist entered, "You called, Miss Cat?"
"Yes, bend over the desk and lift up your skirt."
The receptionist didn't bat an eye at the request, stepped over to the edge of the desk and unzipped her black pinstriped skirt. She bent over and lifted her skirt up to reveal her unblemished naked ass.
"Here," Cat said handing a riding crop to Janet. "Show me what you can do."
Janet took the whip from Cat and stood next to Roxanne. The receptionist looked up at Janet without expression, but seemed to indicate, "Well, I'm bent gölcük escort over the desk, do your best."
Janet's heart thumped with nervousness. She knew she had to make an impression but had no idea what to do, and she didn't want to hurt the girl. "But that's what domme's do. They inflict pain. That's what I have to do." She thought.
Janet raised the whip in her hand and with a forehanded motion, she struck Roxanne's ass with the crop. Then she raised her arm again and struck the beautiful globes again, then again and again and again.
Whack, whack, whack, sounded the crop as it lashed into Roxanne's flesh. Janet cringed with each stroke and yet Roxanne stayed bent over motionless without any movement to lessen the pain or avoid the strikes.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Cat yelled.
Janet stopped - frozen with terror seeing Cat's disapproving look. She lowered her arm and looked at Roxanne's face and saw she was in pain. "I-I'm sorry. I got carried away. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"That's what I thought. You just failed as a domme. You don't know how to whip a woman's ass without causing serious damage." Cat said, snatching the whip from Janet's hand.
The door opened again, and Margritte came in.
"I'm making calls and you're fucking around with Roxy in here? What the hell are you - -," she demanded and then realized that Janet was in the office as well.
"Who are you?"
"Janet. Pleased to meet you," she said and held out her hand.
Margritte reluctantly shook it - distracted by Janet's petite frame. "Cat? A word."
"Excuse me for a moment," Cat said as they both stepped into Margritte's office.
Roxanne had composed herself and stood up fixing her skirt back in place.
"I'm sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you too much." Janet said.
Roxanne said nothing but looked down at Janet who was at least a head shorter than she. She knelt down on both knees in front of Janet crossing her hands at the wrist behind her back and came forward kissing Janet's crotch through her dress. As she leaned back, she looked up at Janet. Janet was expecting a look of anger or contempt for the pain she inflicted on Roxanne and the humiliation Roxanne had to endure, but there was no sign of either. On the contrary, Roxanne had a look of yearning in her eyes.
She stood up and left the office closing the door behind her leaving Janet in the office alone.
***
"Who is that?" Margritte asked.
"Oh, some girl that overheard us talking about our domme troubles. She came in hoping to fill the position."
"You said, 'Tomorrow is another day.' Well, that 'tomorrow' has just become today."
"What? Surely, you're not seriously considering her to fill our domme role."
"No. No. No." Margritte scoffed, "That's still an issue, but she is perfect for our - ahem - social services. I mean, did you see her? She's tiny. Little girl tiny. She's legal, right?"
"I assume she is. I didn't ask."
"Well, assuming she is, she fits the desires of any one of our clients. Did you hear her voice? That little girl's voice? Now tell me who doesn't like that?"
"Margritte, I think you're getting ahead of yourself. Yes, she's petite and yes, she's got 'little girl' qualities, but she's inexperienced. Clueless. She'd be helpless."
"Maybe, but that can be corrected over time. Look at what's there, Cat. Look at the potential. We can hire anybody that's 5'2" to 5'8", but a girl that's 5 foot nothing - with a proportioned izmit sınırsız escort body to match and a pair of teacup tits plus a girlie voice thrown into the mix? You can't buy those genes, Cat."
"Well then, I guess we've got a lot of work to do. I hope you're right."
"If I am, our domme problem won't be such a pressing concern."
They both left Margritte's office and went back into Cat's. Janet turned and stood up as they entered.
"No, please sit," Margritte said making Janet sit back down.
"Janet, how old are you?" Cat asked.
"22, almost 23," She said, trying to make herself seem older."
Margritte smirked and nodded to Cat.
"So," Cat said, "you want to work here?"
"I do. I know with some practice, I could be a better domme."
"We don't want you for the domme position, but we do have another in mind - for you. It's very different from the domme position."
"Oh. What would I have to do?"
"Nothing too difficult. Basically, you'll just be called on to be a person's companion for a day or so."
"A companion? You mean just to keep somebody company?"
"It could be as simple as that, but it could also entail more."
"Like what?"
"Like anything. Anything legal, that is." Margritte answered.
"Anything? Does that include sex?"
"It mostly includes sex."
"Is this an escort service?"
"How insulting." Margritte spouted, "We are certainly not an escort service. We are a staffing agency servicing VIPs, and we make training and educational tapes."
"VIPs? What kind of VIPs?"
"VIP, VIPs. The only thing you'll need to know is the person you work for currently. That's it."
"And I'm supposed to have sex with them?"
"If asked for. Is that a problem?"
Janet thought about it for quite some time. It seemed like she got the job, but it was a job she didn't expect to get. However, they didn't know that she was on the edge of despair with a mountain of debt and no job prospects in sight.
"Well, what's your answer?" Margritte said growing impatient.
"I don't know if I can do that. I feel like you'd be pimping me out for prostitution."
"This is a waste of time. Get her out of her." Margritte said, frustrated.
"Are you sure?" Cat asked.
"Wait!" Janet said, "What's the salary?"
"That depends on you. The better you do your job, the better your payment will be. It could be a few hundred for an hour or so, or it could be a thousand or more for an entire day."
Janet really had no choice but to swallow her pride and bear it. "Okay. I'll do it, but would it be possible to get an advance?"
"An advance? You haven't even done anything yet, and you want an advance already?" Cat said.
"How much?" Margritte said.
"A thousand dollars?"
"For what?" Margritte said.
"Bills. Food and stuff."
"What kind of bills?"
"The usual stuff. Rent. Utilities. Credit cards."
"Bring your bills in and we'll see what we can do. As for food, we'll give you an allowance for that. Fair enough?"
"Oh...yeah. That's fair. Thank you. Oh, I'll need transportation money, too."
"That's fine. Now that that's settled, let's take a look at what we have to work with. Take off your dress." Margritte said.
"My dress?"
"Yes. Take it off."
"But I - I'm not wearing underwear."
"Then you have less to take off. Now, strip."
Janet stood up and began unbuttoning the top of her dress. After four buttons were open, she let her dress slide to the floor and stood there as the two women looked her over. The first thing they noticed was her hair - pubic and head. Both were out of control.
"Wax and hairdresser," Cat said.
"Nails, full-body scrub, and facial," Margritte continued.